When we moved to New Hampshire a decade and a half ago, we had to move a substantial library from our old house. Much of it had to wait its turn in our new garage, boxed up until we had the shelf space for them.
We didn’t know that the garage was leaky and would get flooded every time a major thunderstorm hit. A little while later, before we had the opportunity to put up more shelves, a big thunderstorm passed through, and at least a dozen boxes full of books got waterlogged and ruined.
We salvaged the rest and finally had space in the house to put everything on shelves. But at that time, e-readers had really taken off, and I shifted most of my reading to those. The first one was a Sony, followed by a long list of Kindles. Amazing devices, those–they got cheaper and better every year, and I could carry around hundreds of books in my pocket without having to worry about the physical integrity of my library.
A while back, however, I noticed that all the tech I’ve let into the house has changed my reading habits in a major way. I used to have no problem at all sitting down with a good paper book and reading most of the day away. But the longer I used Kindles (or the reader apps on the iPhone and iPad), the less I was able to stay immersed in the material, to the point where I couldn’t read five straight pages without feeling the temptation to check email or messages. It got to a point where I couldn’t remember the last time I had read a book cover to cover without putting it aside in between chapters for days and weeks at a time, or when I had last read a book on paper.
It appears that the diminishing attention span induced by perpetual connectivity is a common thing. (Nicholas Carr’s book The Shallows is excellent, if unsettling, reading on that subject.)
In order to get my brain to undo whatever rewiring all that tech has done to my attention span circuits, I’ve semi-mothballed my Kindle. Now I only use it for traveling, which means that it has been sitting on my nightstand charged and unused for most of the last 14 months. Whenever a new book catches my attention, I buy it in paper form again. I’ve also bought nice hardcover editions of my favorite books, the ones I tend to re-read every few years. And I’ve found that something really works differently in the brain when I sit down with a real book and a cup of tea, with the electronics in a different room instead of buzzing for attention in my pocket. I feel a similar difference whenever I write longhand with a pen instead of typing on a computer keyboard. It’s like the brain shifts to a lower gear, but one that can pull much heavier loads, if that makes sense.
Here’s the latest book haul, which will keep me busy for the next few weeks:
Not only do they hold my attention much better than their e-ink versions, they can also be put on a shelf for display and future use. Sometimes you just don’t know what you want to read until you spot a particular book on the shelf and think, “I should give that one another read.” (Also, they can be signed by the author. I have a whole shelf full of excellent books authored by friends that I managed to get signed at various conventions and get-togethers.)
Of course, if we ever end up moving to a new house, I’ll probably regret this new habit because boxes full of books are really, really heavy.
These 30 years of my adult life, I must have moved house about a dozen times, and every time there were more books to move. I have packed and unpacked them, put them on new shelves with some room to spare, every time. And some time later I would look at those shelves and see them completely full, double-stacked, sometimes even triple-stacked. How many have I given away, sold or thrown away in all that time? If memory serves me right, I can still count them on my two hands, no need for my toes to get involved.
At a guess, I’ve reread about half of all the books I own at least once, a lot of them several times, and some of them probably a dozen times or more. Strangely enough, I don’t have that urge on my e-reader just yet.
And yes, an e-reader is infinitely lighter than paper books. I’m glad I won’t be moving out of our home any more. The thought of having to move all those books again just makes me want to run and hide. With a good book, of course!
His Dark Materials is excellent. Agreed that sometimes you can’t beat good old paper.
Finding a book to reread is so much easier on a physical shelf – and being reminded of an old favorite that I haven’t read in a long time is impossible with electronics (unless one is totally bored and willing to spend a lot of time scrolling through the list, and even then my memory is better triggered by the site of the back binding!).
I have found myself in the same place regarding paper books vs electronic. I find I am using my kindle less and less and gravitating toward the paper even if I end up donating or selling to a used bookstore if I don’t want to keep it. I love having signed physical copies of my favorites (yours included!). I am sure the pendulum will swing back and forth but I even chose to take a book instead of the smaller lighter kindle to an appointment. I miss seeing what people are reading and finding new books or kindred spirits because they see what I am reading as well. I was recently attacked by a collapsing shelf of boxes of books in my garage that hadn’t made it inside since I moved in 9 years ago. Guess they were giving me an ultimatum to sort them for recycling, donation, or inside shelves.
As an avid book collector and former bookstore owner, I completely understand the pain of having to dispose of ruined books.
I know that my library defines my and my family’s personality. We have books everywhere in our house and each one is procured either because it adds to a collection involving a subject we enjoy, books we want to read, books we want our children to read, or books that we want to give to others. I have owned Kindles in the past and ended up giving them away to people that use them. It’s interesting, when we have guests over, long conversations are started because of books that they see on our shelves. Physical books provide a stimulus for the mind. Being able to run your finger along a shelf of books provokes reactions that you simply will not get when looking through the list of books you have in your e-reader.
Keep those books, and when/if it comes time to move them again, start with the books first so that you can peruse each of them to remember why you bought it in the first place.
couple of years ago we moved to a new flat (basically across the Danube/Donau) and we finally had a brand new shelf for books – well, first it was only half full, but we managed to fill it; completely. So for us, Kindle is a savior. 😀
It was not really hard to fill the shelf, as only the hungarian edition of the Dune-series (hardcover) are 17 books, occupying 1/24th of the shelf. 😀
Well, if it means anything, my reading has actually accelerated (like huge) in the last five years from the use of a Kindle. I’ve probably read more books in that narrow period than I have in the 20 or so years prior once getting out of college. All of your Frontlines and now Palladium Wars are on it, among many dozens of others. Another issue? My eyes are beginning that dreadful downhill race to mediocrity. A Kindle, with the ability to increase font size, makes it so easy these days without the need to find any glasses.
I feel your pain with the loss of books. I had an ex-wife give to Salvation Army my book collection while I was out of the country for 8 weeks. It included signed first editions. “We didn’t have room for your books.” Years later we decided to move on our boat and could keep very few books. I now read on kindle and an upub app. I buy traditional books directly from authors and can own very few.
Reading on the kindle app, I turn off notifications and stay in the moment. I do lookup some facts and might take a note. outside of kindle. It works for me. Turning off the notifications was key for me.